The Lost Alpha

Harper’s POV The night Lucas vanished was the night my life split into two. I was twenty-one, standing on the balcony of the Crescent Moon packhouse with the smoke of burning timber in my lungs, watching my world collapse. The air was thick with ash and blood, the cries of wolves echoing through the Tennessee woods. Flames devoured the training grounds, and shadows of rogues darted through the chaos. And then him. Lucas Blackwell. My Alpha. My mate. I saw him shift mid leap, claws tearing through enemies as if the moon herself gave him strength. His golden eyes locked on mine for a heartbeat, and I thought, we’ll survive this. We always do. But then a blast of fire lit up the trees. Rogues swarmed. And in the confusion, Lucas disappeared. I screamed his name until my throat bled, but he never came back. The Elders declared him dead a week later. The pack buried an empty coffin. And me? I buried my heart. That was five years ago. Now, at twenty-six, I wore his mantle not Alpha by name, but by necessity. Crescent Moon survived because I refused to let it die, even when rival Alphas circled, waiting for weakness. I carried the weight every day. The only thing I didn’t have anymore was hope. Or so I told myself. The night was cool and sharp as I patrolled the forest border, boots crunching over leaves. The full moon hung low, silvering the trees. I liked being out here more than in the packhouse. Out here, no one whispered about whether I was strong enough, no one compared me to him. Out here, I could breathe. You shouldn’t be alone. Sienna’s voice brushed my mind through the pack link. My best friend never stopped mother-henning me. “I can handle myself,” I murmured aloud, though she couldn’t hear the words. That’s not the point. Leaders don’t wander in the woods by themselves at night, Harper. Someone has to keep you alive. I rolled my eyes and shut the link. Sometimes, solitude was the only thing keeping me sane. The forest was quiet tonight. Too quiet. No owls, no crickets, no distant howls of wolves from our patrols. My instincts sharpened. Something was wrong. Then I heard a low growl, deep and guttural, rolling out of the shadows. I froze. My wolf stirred under my skin, muscles tensing. That sound didn’t belong to any of ours. Branches cracked. A shape moved between the trees, massive and dark, shoulders rippling with power. My breath caught. The wolf stepped into the moonlight, and my heart nearly stopped. He was enormous, his fur ragged and scarred, his body carrying the weight of countless battles. But it wasn’t the scars that made my blood run cold. It was the eyes. Golden. Fierce. Familiar. No. Impossible. “Lucas?” The name slipped out before I could stop it, raw and trembling. The wolf stilled. His ears flicked, his chest heaved, and for a split second, I swore recognition sparked in those golden eyes. Then he staggered forward, a broken sound ripping from his throat, and collapsed in the dirt. I gasped, rushing toward him. His body shuddered violently, fur shrinking, bones cracking, until the wolf was gone and a man lay on the ground. A man I knew better than my own heartbeat. Lucas Blackwell. But not the Lucas I remembered. He was thinner, his once broad frame gaunt, his skin stretched over hard muscle and countless scars. His hair was longer, darker, matted with sweat. His jaw, once clean-shaven, was rough with a beard. His chest rose and fell shallowly, blood staining his shirt where something had ripped into him. My knees hit the earth beside him. My hands shook as I reached out, brushing the grime from his face. His skin was burning hot. “Lucas… oh my God. You’re alive.” His eyelids fluttered, and then those golden eyes locked on mine. For a moment, I was twenty-one again, standing in the fire, reaching for him. “Harper…” His voice was gravelly, rough, and broken, but it was him. Always him. I wanted to scream. To cry. To hit him. To kiss him. A thousand emotions crashed through me, none of them making sense. “You’re supposed to be dead,” I whispered. His lips twitched in something between a grimace and a bitter smile. “I was.” And then his eyes rolled back, and he slumped unconscious in my arms. “Lucas!” I shook him, but he didn’t stir. My pulse thundered in my ears. I was about to link Sienna for help when I heard movement in the trees. My head snapped up, instincts flaring. We weren’t alone. A shadow shifted in the darkness, too quick to see clearly. Watching. Waiting. And then it vanished. My arms tightened around Lucas’ broken body, my wolf bristling inside me. Whoever had been out there wasn’t a rogue wandering by chance. Someone had followed him here. And if they knew Lucas Blackwell was alive then Crescent Moon was already in more danger than I could imagine. Harper cradles Lucas’ unconscious body, torn between rage and relief, while the shadow of an unknown enemy slips back into the forest leaving her with the terrifying truth, the Lost Alpha has returned, but he didn’t come back alone.